Ostara Blessings to all. Today is the Spring Equinox, when night and day are both at equal length. If you go out late in the afternoon you might just catch the rising Moon in the sky at exactly the same time the Sun is about to set. Early in the next morning you can also see the Moon in daylight, just as the Sun is rising. In between these two events is a period of complete balance between day and night, Sun and Moon, male and female, light and dark, God and Goddess.
This is a special point of balance. On this day, light and dark are equal, but the light is now surpassing the dark as days will grow longer and nights shorter, warmth is taking over cold, life is taking over death. Today we truly say goodbye to winter.
This is a time of major transformation for the earth. The great wheel has turned as we pass into a new season. We will notice new buds forming on branches, the birds will start returning, and animals will come out of hibernation. Flowers will start to shoot up and fields and grass will become lush and green.
The young horned God is growing stronger and the Goddess is in her maiden form. The young Sun God takes notice of the Maiden Goddess and the stirrings within them seem to be felt in all living creatures. All the world seems renewed, refreshed, and bursting with possibilities.
Ostara is an Anglo-Saxon and Celtic fertility festival worshiping the Goddess Ostara or Eostre, as she is also known. Eggs and rabbits are her fertility symbols. The egg resembles new life and birth, the rabbit signifies fertility.
The Horned Sun God, also known as The Oak King or the Lord of Light; the Gods Pan, Cernunnos, and Sun Gods such as Sol, Apollo, Attis, Ra, and Horus are also worshiped on this day.
Eostre’s feast day is traditionally held on the first Full Moon following the Spring equinox, the identical time as the Christian Easter when Jesus was said to be resurrected from death. The Sun God, Attis, who was born via a virgin birth, is resurrected each year during the Spring Equinox. The Goddesses Ishtar and Persephone were also resurrected from death on Ostara.
Ostara is a time of newness and rebirth. It is a time to clean up and clear out all our old junk, this is where we get the term “spring cleaning” from. But it isn’t just clearing out our homes, it is also clearing out the junk and negative energy that we carry around with us. Let the new energies of the Sun and the Spring rejuvenate us. Welcome in the new. Breathe new life in and look to the future with hope and optimism.
On your alter, add anything to represent and honor the season such as budding flowers like crocuses, daffodils, lilies, daisies, acorns, and seeds. Ostara is a time of balance between light and dark, so symbols of this polarity can also be used. Use a God and Goddess statue, a white candle and a black one, a sun and moon, etc. This is the time of year when animals are bringing forth new life too so put a basket of eggs on your altar, as it is customary and fun to paint them bright colors before adding them. Add figures or pictures of new lambs, chicks, rabbits, calves etc. Add a chalice of milk or honey; milk represents the lactating animals who have just given birth and honey is long known as a symbol of abundance and as bees will start to come out now, offer these as a libation to the God and Goddess.
The Spring Equinox is a time of balance of both light and dark, it is a time to look within ourselves and balance our thoughts and emotions and find balance in our lives. To embrace our dark and our light equally as one cannot exist without the other. This is a time to stop, relax, and enjoy our personal achievements, whether they be from toiling in our gardens, working at our jobs, raising our families, or just coping with the hustle and bustle of everyday life. What we put into life we will get out, what we plant now can grow into something amazing.
May your Ostara be memorable and your hearts and spirits be filled to overflowing.
Two weeks in a row a dear friend gave me a backhanded “compliment” regarding my work. Mind you, she hasn’t taken the time to read my work in years because she was always questioning whether or not I was writing about her, to the point where it became a serious issue. Each time she asked how quickly I’d be able to sell the work I am currently doing I said “I’m not Stephen King or J.K. Rowling, but I’m not a newbie, either.” She doesn’t understand that turnaround time and getting something sold are not immediate. You don’t become a writer to be a billionaire. It’s a long-shot, and I know very successful writers who only get paid about fifty cents per book sold.
Those who can’t do are very quick to criticize those who can. You can be a part of my life and support the fact that I’m a creative soul, or you can choose to ignore it. I leave the choice with you.
I am doing the best I can to pay my bills. There’s never enough work or enough ideas to achieve that, but I work my ass off. Literally and figuratively. There are days I am in so much pain and I still force myself to sit for 8-16 hours to write. I call that “dedication”. It’s not “lazy”, “stupid”, “lacking common sense”, or “self-destructive”. Physically live in my pain for a year and write before you judge.
Pain peeps: This is important and effects everyone who suffers. It also effects people all over the world. I’d like to do something powerful to make an impact.
Everyone I’ve talked to is deeply concerned about what is going on in this country (U.S.) regarding pain meds and how patients are being treated. I’m a pain patient afraid to seek medical help in a new state, and that’s a problem, too. No one should have to feel this way, but if you heard the horror stories I’m hearing, you’d be hesitant too.
I am going to interview as many people as possible, via phone or e-mail, and write an article for publication. Names can be changed or left anonymous if you’re uncomfortable, but your story is important. If you’re interested, please respond to this post. I will provide you with my personal e-mail address if that’s how you’d like to be interviewed or we can talk and I can listen to your story, whichever you choose. I am covering ALL pain disorders, no one is being left out.
The more real life stories about patients with pain, the better the article will be. I mean business. Please feel free to tell others I’m doing this by sharing this post (It’s probably the only time I’ll ever encourage mass reblogging.). Let’s shed light on the truth of the matter. There’s a big difference between addicts and patients. It’s time to shut down the stigma.
I find myself unable to concentrate this afternoon as I work on what I can only hope is my second to last draft. Everything is coming together nicely, but my health is taking an unhappy turn.
It only took six and a half months, two applications (the first of which they lost and didn’t tell me about until January!), and a plethora of phone calls to find out that my health insurance has finally been approved! The utterly daunting task of finding a primary care physician, a neurologist, and someone who can actually diagnose and treat whatever the hell I have is overwhelming.
Over the past few years I’ve come to wonder if I was properly diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. Sure, I match all the criteria, but is that what this truly is? There are so many other pain-related autoimmune disorders, and disorders that are pain-related and neurological. I wasn’t tested for the majority of them and it’s been a while since I was retested for Lyme Disease. In turn, I’ve decided to meet a new doctor and simply give him/her a list of my symptoms. I’d need to have blood work and tests done any way, so I’d rather start fresh and not even bring the word Fibromyalgia up to a new physician. I want someone to come back to me with a clear-cut diagnosis and a treatment plan. I don’t want to be jerked around. Nor do I want to be judged or treated like a drug addict for saying it. I haven’t been on prescription pain medication in five years. If I’d been addicted, it would have posed a serious problem. Instead, it was just an asshole doctor playing with my life. A doctor who lied to my face when I asked about his residency at a local hospital (it’s how I was referred to him, by a nurse that had worked with him). He’s the only doctor in the United States with that precise first, middle, and last name, so why lie about where you did your residency? It’s common knowledge with a little research. That wasn’t the only indication that something about him was off. Being dropped as a patient without warning was the icing on the cake after his in-office behavior.
My migraines have progressively gotten worse. I am currently on day ten of a migraine that has destroyed me. Each day I’m a little more hesitant to eat or drink, because anything can trigger my headaches now, and I simply don’t see any correlation between food, drink, and when I’ll get slammed with a headache. I can be okay for an hour or two, and the second I sit down to put the information into the migraine app, I get slammed with horrific head pain, nausea, etc. These are clear signs that I’m NOT okay and that I need to make sure a brain MRI is done soon. The last one I had was of my brain and spine. The brain scan is usually 35 minutes with and without contrast, but the spine takes longer and the position is extremely uncomfortable when you suffer from serious lower back pain. I ended up having a claustrophobic panic attack inside the machine. That had never happened to me before, so this time, I am going to make sure I’m armed with Valium, Xanax, or whatever a doctor can give me so I don’t have a meltdown in the middle of the test. I’m not usually claustrophobic at all, but I now know that MRI machines and snow storms cause me to go into pre-panic meltdowns at the mere thought. It’s the exact opposite of who I am, so it’s hard to explain why this is suddenly happening to me. I hope that whatever this is, it doesn’t not require surgery. I did some research and didn’t like what I found. 😦 This is precisely why I hate when people say “You could have this…” and I end up Googling it to educate myself on something I’ve never heard of before, only to convince myself of the “What Ifs”. A case of the “What Ifs” will only increase ones’ stress levels and anxiety, so why do people say shit like that”?! It’s one thing if I’m with someone and they’re displaying signs of a heart attack or stroke, in which case I am getting them an aspirin (for the former) and calling 911, regardless of which situation it may be. I don’t have to be anything more than concerned, and get them medical attention as quickly as possible.
The nicest thing a person can say when I’m suffering is “I’m concerned. Make an appointment and I will go with you.” If you’re going to say one thing and not mean it, then I’ll go whenever the fuck I go, but it won’t be on your terms.
I sit here this afternoon, really praying I don’t end up in the emergency room or at Urgent Care over a migraine. I’ll pretend that the stomach pain I’ve had on and off since Sunday is an abdominal migraine. I’ve never been diagnosed with them, but the symptoms come with a lot of my migraines these days, depending on the severity. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to put two and two together. In fairness, what will either place really do for me? Not a whole lot. I’d be lucky to leave with an abortive, like Relpax, and a referral to a neurologist. That doesn’t help me, but would they do blood work on site? Yes.
I’ve already had to cancel my appointment with a Physician’s Assistant due to transportation issues. I don’t feel good about that, but it’s a huge scheduling conflict. Not every appointment in my life can be at the crack of dawn, especially when I am having severe issues falling asleep and staying that way. An early morning appointment means no sleep for me until I return home, and that’s if I can sleep at all. It then screws up my schedule until a week’s worth of Melatonin can correct the problem. So unless I’m sleeping well, I don’t commit to appointments that early because I cannot guarantee I’ll be able to make them. If I’m awake at six in the morning, chances are I’m in pain or didn’t get an ounce of sleep. I’ve got allergy medicine knocking me out most nights, and kind that is marked “non-drowsy”, so I’m not being stubborn, but I am owning my limitations.
Normal walked out the door a long time ago. I can’t expect anything to give me my life back. All I can do is muddle through the pain and pray that someone will eventually hand me the correct diagnosis.
Wishing everyone who celebrate a Happy Saint Patrick’s Day! Have a good weekend, one and all.
Tonight is the Full Crow Moon, also known as the Worm Moon and the Sap Moon. It is called the Crow Moon for the cawing crows that signal the end of winter. As the earth thaws, worms start to appear. It also marks the time when maple sap begins to flow and the annual tapping of maple trees begins.
As we move to Ostara, the Spring Equinox on March 20th when both day and night are at equal length, we are reminded to find our own inner balance. Focus on inner wisdom and self-analysis.
This Full Moon is in the sign of Virgo; this will give us a keen eye for detail. We will see things, people, and situations in our lives with crystal clarity; a light will be illuminated allowing us to see beyond the shadows.
This Full Moon is about cultivating and growing, just as the Suns’ energy and nature is doing at this time. Plant the seeds of new ventures, plan for the future, think about what it is you want and need, and set about putting a plan into action. Use this energy for your own personal transformation, rebirth, and regrowth. New life is blooming during this phase of the Moon, as is prosperity and fertility.
This Full Moon illuminates our inner feelings and desires, so emotions can be quite raw and enhanced. The Virgo Full Moon means we may be overly critical of ourselves and of others. Try not to see the bad in everything, instead, look for the good. The Virgo sign is a very hard-working, practical sign, so use its energy for getting jobs done that you have been putting off for a while. Virgo is not scared to face deep issues, so tackle any problems and bring them to an end.
This Full Moon brings light to whatever was hidden in the darkness or buried within the subconscious such as emotional pain or our deepest desires, but once awareness happens you are able to make realistic changes. Our emotional levels move like strong turbulent waves in the ocean during high tide for some during this Full Moon. Emotional reactions may be strong, energies may feel irritable or uptight, but don’t worry, this will pass. We are amidst great times of transformation which are heralding major new beginnings. Change isn’t always easy or comfortable and it’s constant, so we must strive to keep our balance during these changing tides.
The world as it stands is challenged by many opposing forces now. We feel them both personally and collectively, pushing against our own will, raising difficult questions, triggering issues we would rather avoid. How we keep our own balance of light and dark and manage our own inner conflicts largely dictates how we manage outside ones. If we struggle with our own anger or hatred, telling ourselves we shouldn’t feel this way, we will struggle to respond effectively to the anger of others, allow yourself to feel angry or upset, but don’t let it take over, keep a balance. If we fear our own power, preferring to see ourselves as victim rather than creator, we may succumb to the power wielded by others, adopting their thoughts and priorities, behaviors and lifestyles without discerning the right path for us. If we refuse to acknowledge our own inner selfishness that demands its own way no matter what, we may project it onto the world around us, pointing the finger of judgement and even becoming a bully. Don’t suppress your feelings, embrace your light and your dark sides as one cannot exist without the other. We need both. Let go of guilt and allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling without self judgment.
Let the energy of this Full Moon wash over you and cleanse your spirit, use it to heal you both emotionally and physically. Let the moonlight bathe and sooth you, mind, body and soul. Seek a balance of light and dark and see the truth in your life however much it may hurt, only then can you do something about it.
Have a blessed Full Moon, and may the Goddess watch over you.
Hello everyone! I hope this finds everyone in a good place, or at least, not a painful one. Life happens and I know it’s not all roses, sunshine, and ice cream. 😦
I didn’t mean to drop off the planet for a bit, and in truth, it hasn’t been that long. Even still, it’s unacceptable to keep everyone out of the loop.
About two and a half weeks ago I began writing a piece of fiction that has been haunting me for several months. I began my third draft this morning of an 80,000 word novel. It’s a genre I was unaware I could write, but I am thoroughly enjoying my time spent (About 8-14 hours a day) with these characters. And even though the characters keep changing their strengths and personalities on me, each trying to be in the lead for who is stronger, I am finding myself doing all that I can to keep their best assets in tact, and complete this for submission to an agent. I wouldn’t need representation if this wasn’t a “hobby genre”. It’s the polar opposite of anything else I’ve ever written. It will appeal to people who read the genre, but not so much to the average reader, and that’s okay. None of you will be obligated to grab a copy, unless I self-publish, in which case, there will be freebies available (for judgment). And even then, more than half of you won’t like it. Hell, I myself am learning to be comfortable with this new side of myself. She’s always existed, but suddenly she was handed the keys to go for it, so why the hell not make an effort?
Aside from that dose of positive news, I’ve been plagued by migraines, fell down the back stairs last week while taking out the recycling (I thought I’d come away with a few bruises and some soreness, but apparently I banged myself a lot harder than I originally thought.), and just plain haven’t felt like myself.
I am spending the majority of my time writing and rewriting. I can’t complain there. When I declared the first draft to be “missing something”, I banged out a 20,000 word change that shifted the entire story in a few direction. So what is my problem? Finding the right way to stop the story. Doing a “one and done” novel has never been something I’d anticipated attempting. I like writing series work. It allows for expansion and growth, and takes the reader on a journey. A book should be more than words on a page; it should mean something. Regardless of genre, you should come away educated, enlightened, happy, sad, or a plethora of other things, but you should still gain something from your time spent reading an author’s work. Even if you hate it. However, agree, here and now, not to tell me you hated something I wrote. Respectfully decline to comment on it, don’t read it a second time, but agree not to tell me you hated it. 😉 I’ll have plenty of detractors, and I do, but it’s so much easier to say “Congrats on your achievement.” than “I hated it!” While not the most diplomatic person on the planet, I’ve never told a single friend of mine that writes that I hated their work. I’d rather say something isn’t my taste, and not be disrespectful to what I know is not easy work to start and complete.
The days and weeks have flown by since I started writing this new body of work. The fact that I allowed it to simmer inside my head for so long is the culprit behind being able to get so much down so quickly. That, and the fact that I type over 100 words per minute.
If all else fails, at least I know I tried something new.
Wishing you all a wonderful end to this day. I will be back as soon as possible. Currently immersed in a month in this year we have yet to take on. 🙂
Tonight is the New Moon in Pisces, heralding in a powerful new start. Pisces is the last sign of the zodiac. It is the end of the astrological year.
This New Moon is truly a new birth of life, inspiration, and ideas. It is energetically connected to our personal evolution, like a butterfly coming out of its chrysalis. The earth is changing now as it wakes to Spring/ We are also waking up to what we need to do to grow and move on in our lives. The energy of transformation is being seeded within each of us now.
This is the perfect New Moon to work with our dreams and visions, with art and dance, music and writing; to let our creative side take over. Pisces is a water element and water forms a doorway to other realms, a way of being which lets us shapeshift into what we want to be. You may find yourself drifting and caught by distraction, unable to focus. Your psyche is pulling you away from the normal world and into a place of the imagination. This is no time to resist or hold back. Let your mind run wild. This is a time to make wishes and go for what you want.
The New Moon in Pisces makes a bold statement, leaving no stone unturned. It may symbolically or directly point the way to a new path that is yet untraveled and shoot you in a new direction. This New Moon will bring wonderful surprises. There will be twists and turns around every corner. Keep your eyes open for new opportunities that may come out of the blue.
The Pisces New Moon will be a very emotional one. We will be feeling everything deeply, we may even find ourselves happy or crying for no reason. We will find it hard to sleep and we may experience weird or unsettling dreams. This is our minds’ way of dealing with our emotions and releasing them.
During the next few days you may experience feelings of anger or a sense of being misunderstood. You may be feeling frustrated and that you need to get moving in your life, that things are happening too slowly. There may be some anxiety and impatience over where you are and where you want to be. People will be acting more assertive and argumentative (traffic, work, relationships, etc). Your pets may start acting strangely. There will be more spirit or ghost sightings. There will be more intense weather patterns happening, such as storms or thunder. Try to stay calm as these will pass. There is a major shift happening right now and we will physically feel the energy.
This New Moon is all about change, it is a breath of much-needed fresh air. There will be a small uncomfortable time of adjustment as we move into the new, but we will come out of it feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world.
Let the waters of Pisces cleanse and heal you. This is a lucky time, so do things that you felt you couldn’t do in the past, be a bit bolder, a bit louder, ask for what you want from the universe, let your thoughts, and desires manifest into something real.
Have a blessed New Moon & may the Goddess watch over you.
Things I Hate About Being So Sick At Such A Young Age & Not Being Understood
Over the past few months I’ve come to realize I’ve foolishly handled the severity of my illness for years. Over the past fifteen months, I have gotten worse. In turn, people’s expectations of me are way too high. They see me power through things I shouldn’t be powering through, which leads them to believe I’m okay when I am anything but. That’s about to change because I’m ready to admit what I can and cannot do.
I cook at least 5-6 nights a week, sometimes seven. I have to stop doing that. I have to stop pushing myself to have dinner on the table like an obedient housewife, of which I am not, because not only do I feel unappreciated in my efforts at times, but I spend 8-12 hours sick as a fucking dog each day (and every day before it) and I’m still dragging my ass into the kitchen each night like a moron. I’m over-doing it.
There are so many mornings and nights where feeding Cat and Kitten makes me want to die. Bending down to put their plates onto their cute kitty place-mats, picking them up to wash the plates when they finally finish (especially Cat, who is SUPER PICKY about what she’s given from one day to the next.). It’s too much. The pain in my spine, lower back, and legs screams in agonizing protest, and like an idiot, I keep going. 😦 There are far too many mornings I drag myself out of bed solely to feed them, and once I’m up, I feel like I should be doing something, so I force myself to do something, even when I am too sick to be doing anything.
Laundry should be easy enough, but sometimes it takes me a few days to retrieve my clothes from the dryer. It didn’t used to. It kills me, because it feels so incredibly lazy. I used to do 5+ loads a week and not bat an eyelash. Now, anything involving stairs makes me nervous. Especially after my experience of getting locked in the basement and having to PRAY the door would open. I called someone when it happened (I try to make sure I always take my cell phone with me) and got their voice mail. I freaked. I had to calm myself in order to get the door to finally open. Ever since that day, I’ve been extremely cautious.
One morning, in some of the worst pain EVER, I stood in the shower and wondered how badly my legs needed to be washed. I had one of those moments thinking “Can I just pour soap on them and rinse, or do I have to bend down? I CANNOT bend down.” It was the worst feeling in the world, because I was already incredibly shaky from the pain and mindful of the glass doors. I’ve fallen in the tub a few times and, by the Grace of G-d, escaped with only bruises and soreness to show for it. I was having immense trouble bending down. Serious trouble. Then I thought “Where the hell is the back brush? How am I going to reach my back?!” I turned the water off and wanted to cry. I stood there for a few minutes, pretending I was letting the conditioner do its thing, but ultimately, it was scary and upsetting. Then, like an absolute moron, I forced myself to be fully clean; legs, back, and all, and after putting on makeup because, for once, I actually cringed at how pale and sick I looked, trekked to three different grocery stores to get everything on my shopping list. At two stores I rang up the entire order myself, bagged each item, and put everything in the car. I did this with physical pain from Fibromyalgia AND a horrific migraine on top of it. I wanted to be on a morphine drip with someone cooking my meals for me. Alas, that never happens. If I want something done the way I do it, I cannot rely on a single soul except myself. My cannon fodder cousin offered to “make me a meal” (When this sick, what are the odds I’m going to travel thirty minutes away for dinner?). I did not have the heart to tell her it would take roughly fifteen seconds before the knife and spoon are out of her hands and I’m the one doing the actual cooking. I’m a kitchen control freak. Every boyfriend I’ve ever had who has tried cooking for me has ended up standing back with a glass of wine because I do not have the patience for how another person works in the kitchen. It usually takes them an hour to realize I’ve completely taken over the entire meal, and the romantic concept behind it. I’m not a trained chef, but I might as well be once there’s a large, sharp knife in my hand and an idea. Let’s leave the good stuff to the professionals. 😉 I’m a picky bitch, just like Cat.
I have no emergency contact. Outside of my brother, who isn’t extremely reliable where I’m concerned, no one knows my blood type, the extent of my health issues, or my wishes regarding anything life-ending. No one has ever even asked me about these things. My cousin offered to be my emergency contact (after lecturing me about wills, trusts, and things that, quite frankly, nauseate me. She thinks it’s practical. She does not understand that I’ve lost two parents and I’m not interested, at the moment, in her OCD practicality.), but I know full well she will NOT drop everything to answer the phone if contacted, nor will she be physically present in an emergency. She means well, she has a good heart, but she doesn’t understand that this is a big deal. She & I disagree on so much, she’d likely leave me a vegetable if left to her own devices. Everyone else, except my brother and best friends, would pull the plug. Yeah, I feel the love, too. <shaking my head in disgust>
The questions I get asked on a regular basis leave me so fed up, I want to scream.. Oh.My.Fucking.GOD! There is something fundamentally wrong with people. If I’m in pain, it isn’t because I had a sore gym day, it’s because I have an incurable autoimmune disease that haunts my every move. Don’t ask me “Is it from your Fibromyalgia?”, as if you truly are clueless. I often want to say “No, I like walking like a 90 year old woman with osteoporosis. Clearly, I’m FINE.” I don’t feel the need to spell it out for you every single day. It’s painfully obvious, no pun intended. It drives me INSANE. “Is that from your migraines?” Really?! I’m walking around saying how sick I am, throwing up, and you’re asking me questions? Don’t. Stop and think about how it makes me feel. You don’t need to make small talk with me over my suffering and then blow it off like it’s no big deal because it isn’t YOURlife or YOUR pain. G-d help me if I ever behave like that when someone is suffering in my presence! I’d be ashamed.
When I have declared how bad a migraine is, PLEASE do not make enough noise to rival a sixty piece marching band so I can spend time with a pillow over my head and ears (still hearing every fucking sound clearly) wondering whether to kill you and tell G-d it was an accident or to go to the emergency room and beg for medical help. Why do people think they’re quiet when they’re actually noisier than anyone else I’ve ever met?! The excessive noise may not be intentional, but it certainly feels like it is. It’s also incredibly disrespectful. If I don’t want to bother someone with noise from anything, I wear headphones. It’s called manners.
There are days I can walk eight miles and feel good, with maybe sore calves later on in the day or the following day, maybe a charley horse, maybe achy feet, and then there are days I am practically crawling to get to the bathroom. Does that seem normal to you? It isn’t.
There is ZERO happiness, joy, or fun in my life. I mean that. For months I have wanted only to go to the Da Vinci exhibit at the Museum of Science. I asked several people to go with me. No one wants to go, so I was actually told “Why don’t you just go by myself?”, as if that’s an easy thing for me to do these days. I explained that without a second person with me, my health is too unreliable to go into Boston and walk through an entire exhibit solo. It closes tomorrow, and I will likely never get close enough to something like it again. Unlike a movie, where I can rent, borrow, stream, or buy the DVD whenever it’s released, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Not being able to pick up and go like I once did makes me feel utterly worthless, and I’m heartbroken that I’m missing out on things that are important to me. What is the point in living when you cannot do anything that brings you a small measure of happiness? Who in their right mind would want to live like this?! NEVERtell someone that it’s “all in their head”. You truly don’t have a clue how painful this is.
No one, and I do mean NO ONE, ever asks me what I’d like to do, or cares enough to do so. Every single free moment revolves solely around them. I shouldn’t have to spend a minute in a week crying over how badly I am treated, ignored, abandoned, isolated, or hurt by others, but I do.
My OCD is off-the-charts. I’ve alphabetized the herbs and spices in the pantry, dismantled the interior of one cabinet and put everything back in order, and under normal circumstances my books, CDs, and DVDs are all in alphabetical order based on genre. If I start color-coding my clothes, I hope someone stops me before I get out of hand.
Anxiety is part of Fibromyalgia, though not everyone sufferers from anxiety or panic attacks. For me, it began in 2002, though I suppose I’ve always been anxious in one form or another. Back then, when my father’s cancer returned for the fourth time and he was undergoing IV experimental treatment in the hospital, it triggered off something fierce. It took a full year of breakdowns in the shower, so no one would hear me upset, before admitting I needed to fill the prescription from my doctor and take the first pill. I get horrific panic attacks in my sleep and wake up unable to breathe. My body is constantly in fight or flight mode, and it is terrifying.
I’m a former gymnast. I somehow managed to retain nearly all of my flexibility and upper body strength, but I will likely never participate in a sport again. I miss being about to throw my body into the air and do impressive things. I miss the parallel and uneven bars. I miss the balance beam. I miss volleyball. I miss archery. I miss being able to ride a bike. I miss playing football with my male friends. I miss skating; which was the last thing my Grandfather taught me before he passed away. I miss being the strong, athletic girl I once was. It breaks my heart when I see and feel myself struggling to walk, and it kills me each morning as I struggle to get out of bed.
For several months last year, I would be overcome with severe weakness and would not be able to account for 2-6 hours of each day. Over the past few weeks, it’s started happening again. Am I alarmed by this? Yes. I’m even more alarmed by the fact that my application for insurance still hasn’t be processed or approved! Yes, I will likely go ballistic on someone soon because I’ve had enough of their excuses. They’ve had more than enough time to make a decision, especially after lying to me about the first application for six months. “We’re backed up.”, MY ASS. What little patience I may have had is completely gone.
The cost of the only prescription I take jumped from $21 to nearly $60 in a little over a month. I made a few phone calls and got a lot of bullshit excuses about how the cost to the pharmacy probably went up. I had to transfer it to the only pharmacy in the area that will charge me less than $15 for a prescription that is a generic and older than I am. The worst part? My doctor had given me a new prescription with three refills. It’s a controlled substance, so he’ll now have to redo the script with the new pharmacy, and I’ll potentially be out of the medication by the time he gets around to it. The current prescription can remain on file until the pharmacy gets their head out of their asses! It will also make me worry a little less because that’s eight months of coverage medicinally, which will give me time to find a doctor here, who I am almost certain will try to yank me off the medication I need and have taken responsibly, as needed, for over ten years. If I end up in any type of drug rehab, please know that doctors are irresponsibly yanking patients off of controlled substances and giving us no alternative whatsoever. The “war on opioids” is bullshit with nowhere near the amount of deaths being reported. Heroin is the problem, pain patients are NOT.
I am typing this after 2:00 a.m. I cannot, for the love of G-d, sleep properly. Not without taking a larger than normal dose of Melatonin, for me, any way, and going to bed before 9:00 PM, or just slightly later. My brain is so hyperactive and full of thoughts that there is no such thing as “calming down”. Meditation does not work. Breathing exercises do not work. And it doesn’t take long until I lose my patience and go back to writing, or grab the nearest book, even if I’ve read it fifty times.
Life will never go back to “normal” because this is not something that will go away. While there are vaccinations and cures in the pipeline, they may never see the light of day without FDA approval. Experimental treatments and CBD oil might be the only viable options left to me, and that is solely for the Fibromyalgia. I am currently trying to get into a clinical trial for migraines, but there are no guarantees I will be put on the medication they’re testing, and if I am, I’d have to worry about potential side effects of a medication that is basically making me someone’s guinea pig.
I am not okay. I wish, on occasion, people would dial down their level of selfishness and actually pay attention to the fact that I’m so far from okay, I want to scream. I wish someone would actually ask me how I’m doing, and listen to me. I am so fucking tired of biting my tongue or walking around shaking my head in sheer dismay.
I do my best. Every single day there is someone, somewhere, to tell me my best isn’t “good enough”, to talk down to me, or to treat me as though I am beneath them. I would like said people to collectively live in my pain for six months. I’d genuinely like to watch them “get over it”, “stop kvetching” (“To kvetch”, in Yiddish, means “to complain”. They WISH I complained! I fucking walk on eggshells over how much I suffer, and I’m NOT going to do that any more.), or even better “stop having a temper tantrum like a five year old”. When you do thoughtless, disrespectful things and treat me like I’m not a person, you’re inevitably going to push me to the point where you hear about it. I have scars on my tongue where I’ve damn near bitten through it. I refuse to keep holding it all in.
Where is this so-called “human compassion” I keep hearing about? It barely exists. This is such a selfish, self-absorbed world and it is sickening. When was the last time you did something for someone else without gaining anything in return? Because THAT is compassion and kindness to me. Doing something for someone and then throwing it back in their face is NOT compassion, nor is it kindness. Anyone can be a piece of shit. Try not to be one. No one should have to remind you that normal people don’t behave in such a manner, but I’m doing it because I get treated that way and I’m sick of it.
A few days ago someone forgot who they were talking to and insinuated that I am a “people pleaser”. They must have me confused with someone else because I don’t give a damn about pleasing anyone, but I am NOT going to change the core of who I am, as a decent human-being, to make someone else feel better about themselves. You’re a lousy friend to people? That’s fine; I choose not to be.
The halfway decent-looking girl you see, who took the time to put on makeup, who, after way too many months, got a haircut and touched up her roots (being a brunette isn’t all it’s cracked up to be sometimes) is not “vain”, “selfish”, “obsessed with her looks”, “lacking spontaneity”, or any such nonsense. She is me. I’m sick, I’m suffering, and I don’t have to add insult to injury and look like a fucking corpse, lest some rogue mortician thinks he’s lost a body and takes me away!
If you truly care about me, prove it!
Don’t say you love me unless you truly mean it. And don’t think you can treat me one way today and another way tomorrow. I might not say anything about it immediately, usually to give you time to self-correct and/or apologize, but I will wait for the proper time to let you know precisely how I feel about being spoken to like some kind of untrained dog you keep around.
Not every person is who and what they say they are. Not everyone is genuine. I just happen to be hyper-aware of the motives of others.
I am often short-term forgetful. It’s completely unintentional, yet people actually get annoyed that I haven’t done something or can’t remember something that, once it hits my long-term memory, is pretty much good to go until the planet explodes. Being hostile towards me over a short-term glitch is just plain rude. Especially when these very same people would lose their heads if they weren’t attached. I know where mine is.
I have no choice but to plan, and even my plans aren’t set it stone. I cannot, under most circumstances, commit to anything last minute. People get offended by that quickly, so they stop asking you to do things. Or worse; they keep asking. As if you’re magically going to heal and be able to run a marathon.
The other day I noticed precisely how bruised I am. I usually find bruises on my arms and legs, here and there, but this is bad. I had gotten out of the shower and saw something purple on my back when I moved the towel. I turned in the mirror and was utterly mortified. Each morning I usually ask out loud “Was I beaten in my sleep?” My back is covered in black and blue marks that actually DO look like someone beats me. I’m always saying how much my back hurts, but this is a first. I stared at them and noticed a pattern; they’re from wearing a bra. Is it too tight? No, or the bruises would look much worse. The others are in a spider-web pattern across my shoulder blades and there’s another one low on my back that looks as painful as it is.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been heard, understood, or listened to. This disease has robbed me of people treating me like a human-being.
I never know what else it will take from me. There is no pain relief, there is no end in sight, and it’s scary navigating this alone.
I’m sure there are other things I hate, but today, this is all I’ve got.
The Descent Into Hell Is Easy-“Facilis Descensus Averni”
I can accept a lot of things about other people. Damn near anything, but I cannot accept lying, betrayal, stealing, drug addiction, abuse, and/or the acceptance of abuse in a relationship.
As I’ve discussed in the past, I’ve lived through an abusive relationship. It was a roller coaster and the damage done is, on occasion, still present within my mind. It took a long time to fully emerge from the mental and emotional damage the relationship did in terms of screwing with my sense of self. There are some lingering effects that still remain, despite my best efforts. However, I walked away. I did not, and have not, looked back.
I am the product of an abusive home. It took my mother a long time to muster up the strength and courage to leave, but she did something so many people in her position would never do. She knew things were never going to get better, and she (finally) realized she did not have to stay put and witness G-d only knows what else. I was always proud of her for walking away. I never stopped believing that my mother deserved better. Her response was always the same, “My marriage may not have been what I had hoped for, but my children are everything and more.”
When you repeat the same patterns in your relationships (One person is not a pattern. Two is early on-set pattern. Three is a flat-out problem.), there comes a time when you have to take responsibility for errors in judgment. You have to take a look at yourself and own your part in continuing to accept the behavior as “normal”. Perhaps by beginning therapy to work through your issues in order to have healthier relationships moving forward. It’s important to do something constructive to help you put thoughts into action. You should do whatever the hell you have to in order to be rid of the cancerous person that is bringing you down. It might seem drastic and/or cruel, but that’s precisely what it is. Abuse can and will make you sick. No one needs such negativity in their lives.
Good, healthy, solid relationships do not cause you to be afraid, depressed, unhappy, jealous, miserable, suicidal, angry, hurt, and they NEVER cause you to cry. There is an immense difference between happy tears and tears of misery.
Quality relationships do not have to be defined via social media. You will see zero presence of my personal life on my social media accounts, and there’s good reason behind my decision. I believe in protecting that piece of my life because once you open the doorway into it, there’s no way to slam it shut. Even just mentioning certain people, at times, has felt like an enormous invasion of my privacy, but I will do it if there’s a reason behind it, especially if someone’s life is hanging in the balance. Ultimately, I feel like shielding someone I love deeply is more important than the vanity of showing off. What else is social media if not a form of showing off to the world? Unless you’re using it to showcase work, talent, creativity, etc., it isn’t very real. It is also one of the top issues couples have between them these days.
Whenever someone tells me their boyfriend or husband is friends with all of his ex-girlfriends on Facebook, I already know they doubt him, because in reality, how many people feel the need to be friends with every single ex they’ve ever had? No one I know.
When someone hesitates to state that they are in a relationship with you, when you have already stated you are publicly, and amongst yourselves, that is called a RED FUCKINGFLAG. Pay attention to it. If you’re anything like me, you’ve already had a thorough background check run on him and everyone he associates with to make sure he is 100% single with no children, and that you’re not his side chick/mistress. No one wants to be with someone who is dishonest AND has Dexter-esque skeletons in his closet, or qualities within his private persona. I’ve known too many people who were leading double, or even triple, lives. I’m not sure how they found the time, because living one life with one person is hard enough.
One aspect of abusive relationships is the push and pull. They want you, and they don’t want you, mainly because they do not like change. It’s NOT because they don’t want anyone else to have you. They fear change, that’s all. They “love you” one minute, and they also have an opposing side that doesn’t truly resemble hatred, it’s simply disingenuous and emotionally detached. Not everyone is capable of genuine love, and this is important to remember. As the abused party, you have to realize this has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the other person. They may come from the absolute best family you’ve ever met; that means very little when they lack the ability to treat you the way you deserve to be treated, or worse, believe they DO treat you properly.
Another result of the long-term abusive relationship is being the recipient of “guilt gifts”, as I have come to call them, especially in relationships which involve cheating. He fucks up and post-fight, you’re “rewarded” with flowers, stuffed animals, jewelry, chocolate, an expensive vacation, amazing restaurants he’s never taken you to before, you get the gist of it. He thinks these “gifts” mean everything is forgotten and forgiven, that you can keep on “as normal”, and that is precisely where he is wrong. I can guarantee something; his behavior isn’t going to change just because he sent you flowers or bought you something to “shut you up”. Make no mistake, that’s what he is doing. I used to know men who only ever bought flowers for their girlfriends or wives when they’d screwed up royally and didn’t want to sleep on the couch, or in the garage. The ones who were cheating spent a fortune on jewelry. Those weren’t “because I love you” gifts. They were GUILT, plain and simple. The gold and diamond industry is, on occasion, built not on love, but on guilt.
There is also guilt and a plethora of bullshit apologies in physically abusive relationships. Now I’ve never personally experienced a physically abusive relationship outside of my childhood, or I’d be in jail, and there’s a reason for that; I will not tolerate it. I WILL fight back. After several warnings regarding sneaking up on me and/or not announcing one’s presence, I broke a guys’ nose and gave him two black eyes with the force of a well-placed elbow. They truly did not believe I’d do it, but I’d spent weeks saying “Don’t come up from behind me without announcing yourself, because I will react. I am instinctively trained to react as though you are a threat.” Again, this person did not believe me. I don’t know that he learned his lesson, but I gave so many warnings and no, I didn’t do it intentionally. Maybe you can sneak up on a girl who doesn’t have city street smarts, I wouldn’t know, but for me, a warning is enough. “Don’t do this…” is the best I can give a person. My Uncle (G-d Rest and Bless His Soul) did not believe in allowing me to be a victim.
Normal men with healthy attitudes towards women, love, and life don’t keep making such enormous, unforgivable mistakes. They keep to their word, will be where they say they will be every single time, and don’t ever have to buy a “guilt gift”, unless they were SO busy at work they forgot your birthday, anniversary, or had to skip a major holiday. If they do come home with their tail between their legs, it’s not because they were epic fuck-ups or intended to hurt you. There’s a difference. They’ll be honest with you.
Deep down, all women know when they are genuinely loved and when they are genuinely being lied to by their significant other. Valentine’s Day shouldn’t be the only time someone shows you their love or the false kind of “love”. It should be a year-round thing. It doesn’t always have to be large displays of affection either, it can be something as simple as making you breakfast when you’re in a rush, bringing you coffee/tea each morning, or taking care of you when you’re sick. It is the little things that build intimacy and show you you’re loved. If someone knows how I take my tea within a few weeks, that’s a sign that they’re on the right track, because they’ve obviously been paying attention to things I do for myself, as well as things I do for them.
To this day, red roses make me queasy. I sold a gold necklace, including the engraved pendant that came with it, and two rings from that horrible relationship. I donated an FAO Schwarz teddy bear to a charity, because I could no longer allow it to be in the same space with me. I felt immensely liberated in those decisions because I was no longer bogged down by the heaviness of emotions left behind. All evidence of the relationship was wiped clean in those moments. I never have to go back and I do not have to choose to re-live it with anyone else, not unless I choose to divulge the information. There are a few photos that remain, and I don’t have to keep them.
Sometimes I am still haunted, slightly, but ultimately, I would rather be with someone normal, someone who understands that loyalty means remaining loyal, than be with someone who can’t tell the truth, and who thinks it’s okay to cheat when it most certainly is not. I refuse to cry over any relationship when I have the intelligence, self-esteem, and common sense to walk away from anything and anyone. I am stronger in my ability to place my self-worth over someone else’s negativity and drama.
Unfortunately, when you’re in an abusive relationship and you continue to stay, after a while, even your family and friends will stop believing you because your false mask, the one you’ve chosen to show while in the relationship, is one you’re choosing to keep in place. It’s quite similar to covering up bruises with makeup and continuing to allow yourself to be beaten. I’m not sure which is worse, but what you’re doing is a HUGE LIE. It’s encouraging the behavior and allowing it to continue in a vicious cycle. For what?! You gain NOTHINGfrom this merry-go-round of hell. In turn, any support you may have had from family and/or friends will be gone, because they will come to believe you’ve been lying about your relationship all along. They will come to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’re an attention-seeker who cannot be honest, not even with herself.
I am one of the most loyal friends in the world, always ride or die, but when I question that in someone, something is very wrong. I dislike people who force me to question my judgment. In fact, it pisses me off. For some reason I find myself unable to sympathize or empathize with people who keep going back for more. I’m strongly considering cutting ties with a friend for this very reason.
While I value the friendship and absolutely adore her,.she obviously lacks the ability to hear what I’ve been saying to her from day one. You can’t agree with me and say you know I’m right, but continue to do the exact opposite of what we’ve discussed. It’s unhealthy, and I won’t perpetrate that unhealthiness back into my own life because it inevitably results in a phone call at 4:00 a.m. where I then have to calm this person down and get them to agree that this is the end of the relationship, that they deserve better, that it’s making them sick, and that they need to focus solely on themselves for now, and that they need to start by making a clean break.
Ultimately this person is an adult and can do as they see fit, but I can’t listen and be there for anyone if they are constantly refusing to follow through on sound advice. That’s a waste of my time and quality oxygen, not to mention it disrupts my sleep cycles. I will give 110% of myself if you’re actually going to listen to what I’m saying and hear me, but I am NOTgoing to waste my time if you keep going back to your abuser. If you truly want out, I will be there for you. I will help and I will listen, but if you’re going to go running back to what’s comfortable, to your version of “normal”, then I’m out until you get your shit together.
Having written this, someone will inevitably read it and call me, feeling betrayed. If you have to call me, please re-evaluate your circumstances before attacking me. I did not name names, nor has anyone’s confidence been betrayed. I could be talking about ANY of my female friends and/or acquaintances, or even myself (Yeah, not likely.), so before attacking, get off your high horse. This isn’t about you, it’s about facts.
I don’t think it’s bitchy to question a friend’s motives on this level. I am happy you trust me enough to come to me, but be honest. If the relationship is SO horrible, why keep going back? Are you that deprived? Is that what you truly believe love is? Call me crazy, but I cannot be with someone who has zero respect for me and makes that clear. I cannot be with a person who tells me he is going to keep cheating, and that I should “learn to accept it”. Those are DEAL-BREAKERS. No sane person stays around for that kind of trash-talk from anyone. I’m more apt to knock a guys’ teeth out for talking to me like that. No truly smart man would EVER say that to my face, either. He might very well hide behind a computer screen or a text message, thinking such things will keep him safe. They will not. My mother didn’t raise a fool. I will hunt his ass down.
The same holds true in reverse, gentlemen (When I use that word, I’m pretty much thinking about Tom Hiddleston. He’s my visual example of a classy gentleman.). If your partner is disrespecting you, cheating on you, lying to you, etc., then I fully expect you to pick your ass up and walk away, even if it is terribly painful. The only issue on this level is if you have children in the picture. If you do, file for joint physical and legal custody immediately. Don’t hold back. Don’t stop fighting for your kids. Even if you’re angry with the other person, do not let your children know that there is a huge issue. They already know, because they can feel the tension and they’re not stupid. Do NOT speak ill of the other person in front of them, even if you are utterly blind with rage, be sure to hold your tongue as much as you are able. That person may be a great parent, and a horrible partner, but you don’t want your children to see you as unwilling to fight for them, or hear you talking trash. Children repeat things and they don’t truly forget.
While my life was quite different in this respect, I can tell you that my father was physically present when I was growing up, but was never emotionally present. He worked hard, he provided, but there was zero love or warmth whatsoever. I can count on one hand the times he genuinely spent caring about his children. Overall, I feel he viewed his wife and children as nuisances, nothing more. If we were sick, he’d yell about the money being spent on a doctor’s visit and/or medicine. Talk about unrealistic. Kids get sick and accidents happen, that’s life, be it with children or anyone, really. When I fell on a sheet of ice and fractured my elbow, he had a tantrum over the fact that I did it early in the year, before the deductible was met. At the time, I knew NOTHING about such things, I just knew I’d fallen, couldn’t feel my elbow, and that the pain was awful. My Mom took it seriously because she was the responsible parent. Always. I didn’t fall on purpose, but to hear him yelling at her over the phone was downright ridiculous. She cared more about me having a potentially broken elbow, but he cared about the doctor’s visit and the x-rays at the radiologist’s office. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized we were by no means as poor as he implied to my mother, blaming her for years about not working because she just “had to raise HERchildren”. Not even “our children”, always “HER children”, spoken with pure disdain. We were upper middle-class, but my father mismanaged finances in terrible ways. My mother raised her kids and went back to work, and she did that to gain financial freedom from my father, because he controlled finances the same way he tried controlling all of us.
He was the type of person who should have stayed single and never should have had kids. My mother was the type of person who followed the list of pre-set rules placed before her (Get married, have children, live your life even if it’s not perfect, etc.), mainly because she wanted to get married and have children more than anything in the world. Her marriage may have been horrible, but her children were truly her world.
I was raised entirely by my mother & Grandmother. At about age thirteen, I began raising myself (I fully believe this was a smart move because it definitely helped shape who I am today.) and I helped raise my brother. My father never once asked me to spend summers with him or asked me to visit after we were safely away from the abuse. My brother spent every summer with him (I chalk this up to him being younger and Daddy’s boy.), and did not experience anywhere near the level of abuse I did because, for years before we left, I physically put my mother and brother behind me to protect them. I never knew when things would escalate to extreme physical abuse, so I took my role as protector quite seriously. It was not perfect, but I did my best. You can hit me, but I’ll hit you back, and once my father discovered I wasn’t afraid of him, it only made him angrier. It was a physically, mentally, and emotionally abusive environment and this went on for years. No matter what my mother said or did, her words and actions would never have stopped him. Walking away changed things, but the abuse did continue in a different way.
I would spend years hanging up on my father when he’d get abusive with me over the phone. I had to reiterate to him that I was an adult, and over a hundred miles away from his abuse and wasn’t going to take it because I no longer had to. Sometimes he’d wait five minutes and call back, and other times he’d simply call the following day, as though nothing had happened. He’d turn me into the bad guy because I placed boundaries on the relationship.
Thankfully, in my intimate relationships, I do not look for a father figure. I had a couple of good male role models to keep me from going totally off the rails, but I definitely notice red flags in pretty much every relationship I witness, especially people I am close with. I have warned my brother that if I ever witness him treating a woman or children the way we were treated that I will personally remove them from the situation. I would never allow him to become my father. I hope he knows he’s better than that, because he’s likely reading this.
Sometimes my friends will call me, upset that a husband or boyfriend isn’t where he said he’d be. “He’s ignoring my calls. He’s not answering my texts.”, that sort of thing. I 100% know when someone has hit DISMISS or DECLINE on their phone. It’s a total douche move. Unless you’re in a business meeting or you’re performing life-saving brain surgery, there is no need to hit that button. Let it go to voice mail. Don’t be a douche bag..
I will grant someone a low battery excuse here and there (it happens), but how many grown men do you know who turn off their phones completely unless something is up? Not a single guy I know over the age of twenty. They might silence their phone for work purposes, they might put it on vibrate or airplane mode, but ultimately if a guy hasn’t called you in 6-10 hours, you talk regularly each day, and have left multiple messages, he’d better be in a fucking hospital because there’s no quality excuse he can provide.
“I lost track of time.” Mm-hmm. “Uh, my battery died and I lost my charger.” The words are spoken as a blatant lie, not as a statement of fact. Especially when you find a working charger in his glove box or center console. Or when he returns and his battery is at 75%. Dishonesty is dishonesty. The first time a man lies should be the first and only time you accept it. It’s your sign, do you need it to flash in neon and sparkle?!
Men are men and women are women. We’re very different indeed, but smart women are practically trained from birth to smell the lie. If ever the government truly wants ISIS stopped, they need only recruit military teams full of fierce women because once we lose our patience, we’ll take you down with little remorse.
Here’s the difference on my end in a relationship of any kind; I call to say I’ll be late. It’s called RESPECT. Hell, if I was going to be five minutes late to anything, I’d call whomever I was meeting. The same is true for my hair stylist, nail technician, etc. I firmly believe in being polite and respecting people’s time and concern for my well-being. If someone tells me they’ll be here at 6:00 and it’s 7:00, I am going to call and make sure they’re safe. Granted, very few people care about me, but those that do would definitely notice if I didn’t show up at all. In truth, it’s probably 80/20. Most people wouldn’t notice unless I disappeared for over 48 hours. They still wouldn’t be able to tell the police what I look like, what color my hair and eyes are, how tall I am, what I was wearing, my approximate weight, or if I have any identifying marks or tattoos. My height is incorrect on my ID by a good inch or so. You have to LOVE other people’s awareness and attention to detail.
I make sure my phone is fully charged before I leave the house. I keep my ringer on, even when I really want it off. I never know when there will be an emergency and quite frankly, that’s why I have a cell phone. For emergencies, and to communicate with family and friends out-of-state and overseas. Sometimes the best part of a person’s day is getting a text message to let them know you’re thinking of them. It’s a mood-booster.
I always tell my brother “If you don’t feel like talking, text me so I know you got there safely.” I always, always tell him to be safe. I always tell my friends to be safe and to text me when they arrive at destinations, just in case. A few months ago, when a close friend was worried about a trip and how it might turn out, I let her know I’d contact a friend in the same state if she needed to get out of the situation, and I did that without even asking the other friend because I know she’d have done it in a New York Minute. It’s important to check in with people.
My brother will be the first to tell you he KNOWSI care, even when I say otherwise, because no one else would ever send him fifty texts and twenty e-mails for dropping off the grid for six days. He misplaced his phone and the ringer was off, so he and several friends couldn’t find it. They were calling it for days and it kept going straight to voice mail. He knew I’d be pissed. By the time they did find it, one friend saw my last text message on the screen which was something along the lines of “I am calling the cops and having your phone tracked, you KNOW BETTER than to ignore me for six days without expecting me to react.” Poor guy freaked out and ran to my brother to say “I found your phone. HOLY SHIT, your sister does NOT mess around. You’d better call her immediately. She’s scary, but at least you know she loves you.” They were literally ALL apologizing to me at the same time. What can I say? It’s a gift. 😉
My real point is this; if someone is harming you with words, actions, hands, fists, etc., then you do NOT stick around for more. The nursery rhyme “Sticks and stone may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” is absolute BULLSHIT. It’s a terrible lie we tell children, which only sets them up for disappointment because at a certain age, many children become vicious little replicas of their parents. Words and actions, among other things, are the reason most people are in therapy trying to heal parts of their psyche. There is zero shame in that.
One of my rules is that if you hit me, I will 100% hit you back, and you’ll be sorry you pushed me that far. I’ve been told not to be proud of it, but here’s the thing; I was taught to defend myself, not to lay down and allow someone to harm me. I may not beat you to death (unless I see red, and then I make no promises), but I’m not going to allow myself to come to harm if I have the ability to stop it. And if you’re using words, I’m going to walk away. You’d have better luck bringing a knife to a gun fight.
When you see red flags, please pay attention. I’ve known people who didn’t pay attention, and they paid horrible prices for ignoring the signs, and/or their intuition. An old friend was once “engaged” to a prisoner she became pen pals with, and inevitably began visiting several hours away each week while going to school full-time and being a single Mom to a young child. When he finally got out of prison (and it took her quite a while before she admitted the prison part to me), she eventually found out she wasn’t the only person he was “engaged” to, and she called me hysterical, because she now had to wait weeks for the results of an HIV test and was being tested for other STDs as well, and she was really scared. Sometime during that waiting period, she dropped off the face of the earth and I never heard from her again. Suddenly her phones were both disconnected, she stopped answering all correspondence, and as a last resort, I tried contacting her Mom to make sure she was safe. No answer. To this day, I still worry. I’ve searched over the years and have never found her. I never found a missing persons report for her or her son, and she lived with her mother, so I feel like a report would definitely have been available and/or made public to find if something bad had happened. For me, that is quite scary and I often worry about it. Could I have done more, said more? I will probably never know, but I genuinely hope she is alive, happy, healthy, and thriving. She was a good person with poor judgment, but she was also someone who simply wanted to get her degree, raise her child, and enjoy her life. She deserved that, and more.
When a person cheats on you, it has nothing to do with you. There is often something wrong with them, it’s not something you’re doing wrong, or not doing right. I can’t fake a polite hello to someone I hate, but there are people faking entire relationships! I’ve never understood it, and I likely never will. If you experience the sense that you’re being cheated on, you’re probably right, or quite possibly paranoid, you be the judge on that one. Just remember this piece of advice: Your intuition never lies to you. Unfortunately, some people mistake firm belief for intuition and they wrongly accuse people of heinous things, so be careful and do a little research before confronting someone.
One thing I’ve noticed about every ex of mine is that none of them are married or in happy, healthy relationships, so it’s safe to say I wasn’t the problem. Okay, to be fair one ISmarried, to the person he cheated with, and I openly admit I pray for the poor soul that has to put up with his psychotic shit.
Early on in their marriage, I was informed by close, mutual friends that he was cheating on her. She was pregnant with their first child at the time. I felt bad for her, because I’m sure she believed in him. He was, at the time, a VERY good performance artist when it came to lying in a relationship. He could have shit on someone and told them it was raining, and people would have believed him. That’s how good a liar he was. I don’t believe those things ever truly change, but I’m glad it’s not my responsibility to deal with. I pray for her, but I do not owe her anything. She & I only met once, briefly, but I immediately knew something was wrong when she looked me in the eye. I said something incredibly uncharitable to her, and, at the time, completely unlike me. Instead of denying it, she put her head down in shame. She said nothing, because she obviously had no defense. Apparently she didn’t see that as a red flag though, because she’s still with him.
Since he was the abusive relationship, I try not to think about it too much. I’m clueless how he was able to walk away from me and be engaged to her and married almost instantly when a ring was still on my finger. Yes, these things DO happen, and YES, I questioned my sanity for years after the fact. However, I’m also proud of myself. He didn’t take me down with him. Having dignity and self-respect saved me. I don’t have to take care of a narcissistic control freak who refuses to admit his faults. I have zero ties to him, and for that I am eternally grateful. I dodged a bullet. I wish I could say the same for so many others who put themselves through such complete and utter hell because they’re not strong enough to truly put their foot down and walk away.
Be honest with the person in the mirror, because that’s who you have to live with. Knowyour worth. You don’t have to be an adult reliving his or her childhood experiences. I’d rather go to therapy and work on me, than stay in a relationship that gains me nothing but pain. I already suffer enough without some asshole making it worse, so I’m going to keep making the right choices. I’m going to keep good, solid people in my life who would never dream of causing me such heartache. The types of people who are smart enough to realize that I’d cheerfully rip their heart out if they hurt me in such a manner.
The descent into hell IS easy, but you can make better choices. You can choose to ascend. You can choose not to allow someone to break you. Hell does not have to be “normal”. Let’s face it, there’s nothing “normal” about any of it. Be true to yourself, and don’t ever let someone drag you down to their level. You’re better than that.
I’ve always wondered what motivates people to be judgmental about things and/or people they’ve never attempted to understand. Character trait, flaw, or simply their nature? I’m never certain, but it grates on my nerves.
The majority of my family looks down upon me with much disdain because I’m “a writer”. I’ve never understood, nor will I ever, why having an actual talent marks me as “not good enough”, especially considering 99% of them have never read my work or heard me speak in public. If you think reading my work is interesting, it’s an entirely different experience hearing me express myself in a public setting.
Here are some facts about how I arrived here, as “a writer”: After realizing I’d never be an Olympic gymnast because my parents refused to let me move to Colorado Springs and train on my own, I set out to be a police officer. I studied forensic science. My goal was to be an FBI agent at some point. I was then stricken with an illness that started taking small dreams away from me, until it took the larger ones with it, as well.
I’m a trained singer, but never pursued it professionally on any level. I love it, but it’s not my passion. It’s an interest, a talent, but it’s not my life.
My writing, though? It has always stood out, from day one. Anyone can put words on a page, but it takes talent to tell a story and convey emotion. I wouldn’t do it if it didn’t give something back to me.
I don’t judge the person who decides to become an accountant, even though I’d personally die a slow, painful death to use that word in conjunction with my own name, so why does “writer” sound a whole hell of a lot like “street beggar” when it comes out of the mouth of so many people? Why is it so incredibly disrespected?
I never set out to be a reporter or a journalist, but I did study journalism. I took a plethora of creative writing classes, for which I was eventually banned. I refused to adhere to what the professors determined “proper writing”. I wanted to write the truth and I wanted to write what I believed in. I did not want to write nonsensical bullshit I had no interest in or no opinion on. In their minds, I was disrupting the entire program by refusing to conform. It’s hysterical when I think about it now, but at the time, it was incredibly frustrating. There were so many mixed messages everywhere I turned. To this day, there still are.
Last year someone told me I should, and I quote, “Get a real job.” Having been nothing but a writer and editor for so long, no normal 9-5 job will hire me. When you can’t get a job at a grocery store part-time and not a single store in the mall will hire you due to a lack of previous retail experience, it’s downright insulting. When Walmart and fast food places take a pass on you, you almost question yourself. “What have I done? Did I do something wrong? Why aren’t I ENOUGH?!”
It took a few months of unadulterated shock, but I realize now that it simply isn’t my path. It never was, or it would have fallen into place. If that’s a disappointment to someone, then that’s their problem. That anyone would encourage me to be less than who I am is a testament to how they perceive me, as opposed to how I perceive myself.
I’m not perfect. I make an exerted effort to be who I was raised to be; strong, smart, independent, sassy, honest, loyal, and real. I’ve been through a LOT. The past ten years or so have greatly challenged me and greatly harmed me, and while that is no excuse, I do feel it takes some people a little longer to get back on their feet when they’ve walked through hell-fire barefoot. If you’re 100% healthy and able-bodied to do just about anything, that’s great. When you’re throwing up 70% of your week due to excruciating migraine pain, are barely able to complete simple tasks like cleaning and laundry without feeling weak and drained of your life force, and have to fight off taking a nap at 10:00 in the morning, then you might very well be capable of holding down what some people consider to be a “real job” or a “normal job”, whatever that may mean to most people. However, I respectfully disagree that writing is any less a “job” or any less “real”.
Does writing always pay my bills? No. Does editing always pay my bills? No. Do they help me make ends meet and provide me with a strong sense of self? Yes, if I’m careful with every penny. Will I continue to struggle? At times, all good writers have struggled. There are times I will make decent five figures in a year and other times when I’m barely able to eat.
I’m motivated to write because it’s part of who I am. I’m good at it. I try very hard not to judge what other people do to pay their bills, get an education, etc. And yet, I’m judged because being “a writer” is apparently something others deem unworthy of respect. It may not always be glamorous, but at least I have strong command of the English language and know precisely how to hold someone’s attention.
I’m not motivated to hurt others or disrespect their lines of work. I don’t care if you work at a gas station or an insurance company. I don’t care if you’re a lawyer, a nurse, or a locksmith. I do, however, care if being “a writer” is something you believe is beneath you.
It’s so much more important to be a good person, to be honest, real, and loyal to those you love. I believe your health is your true wealth. I believe all of these things are far more important than the number of zeros in your bank account. Life is short, and while money can make you comfortable, it can also make you complacent. If someone had handed me a black American Express card instead of notebooks, pens, and computers, I’d probably be a very selfish, shallow, ignorant, vapid human-being, with no real understanding of the world around me or the immense value of those I hold dear.
So, I have two words to say to those who simply do not understand what it’s like to have genuine talent and follow through on it, regardless of where the path takes them. Yeah, those are the words.
Written by LISA MARINO-Molchanova 